Not What He Meant, At All
by ZeDancingHobbit
Summary: Mal sets the Doctor up with a much...different companion than what he is used to. One-shot. Complete. T for paranoia.


**Because this was begging to be written. I don't know if anyone else has ever written this, but…come on. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Firefly or Doctor Who, I would not currently be on Earth. **

Why, after losing companionship, do we seek it out? Why do we remind ourselves that there is such thing as friendship, and in the process remind ourselves of the very thing that has been taken from us? Why do we torment ourselves further?

Perhaps it is that very torment that helps heal the wounds. Perhaps it's the thought that, perhaps, friends are still attainable. Or maybe, simply that there is still love left in the world.

Regardless of the reasons, it was at a time such as this that two men found themselves sitting on board of a slightly dingy, slightly beat up, but very homey ship, sipping some drink from cups and engaging in easy conversation. One, sleeves rolled up and boots propped up on the table, they were situated at, leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. The other, taller, leaner, slumped on his chair, his elbows on his knees, a tired attitude resting upon his countenance.

Mal sighed and swirled his cup, allowing the liquid to slosh almost over the rim of his cup. "C'mon, Doc," he finally stated, "you knew it was gonna happen. It always does."

The Doctor sighed and ran a hand through his floppy hair. "Of course I did, of course I did, but you think that helps any? No, it only makes it worse!"

"So why do you put yourself through it?" Mal questioned, his tone growing slightly frustrated. He flipped his legs down from the table and leaned forward, his gaze intent. "If it always hurts so much, why do you keep going through it, over and over?"

"Because…because…" The Doctor seemed to not be able to come up with an answer, biting the side of his cheek and looking off into the distance. "I-I don't…"

"Why?" Mal prompted once more, staring at his old friend.

"I need them," the Doctor whispered, and Mal was astonished to see the faint glisten of tears in his eyes. "I need them, Malachi. I crave them, I need the friendship, I need to know that I am still capable of being…" His hands curled around themselves, physical representations of the thoughts he was trying to form into words, yet unable to. He finally simply settled on shaking them near the listening captain's face as he said, "I need companionship, Mal. I need _companions_."

Mal's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. "Companions," he repeated dubiously.

"Companions," the Doctor affirmed his statement.

"I dunno, doc, I never would've pegged you for the type," Mal stated, leaning backwards once more. "I mean, I wouldn't'a even thought you'd want one, but multiple?"

"One, two, two and a half, I don't care," the Doctor sighed. "Though no families. Well, no, I can do families. Depending on the family. And only one of those. Can't do more than that. And no children! Well, the first child I had on board never really was on board. She…ah…exploded before she could get on…well…she was conceived on board…but that's a completely different…" He trailed off at Mal's completely lost look. "Numbers don't matter to me," he finished lamely.

Mal simply stared at his friend, glass forgotten as it dangled from his fingertips. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth slightly open as he attempted to sift through the slew of information he had just been offered. After a few awkward seconds, he shook his head and set his glass on the table. "Doc, if a companion's all you're wanting, I've got one on board. I'm sure she'd be willing to go wherever it is you wanna go," he offered. "You're a nice guy. I don't think she'd refuse you."

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "A companion? Well, usually I don't find them like this. Usually they're in perilous, life-or-death situations and I rescue them and they want to come…you say she's a companion? Has she been time-traveling before? I'm sure I've never had her before…perhaps it was a different time lord? No, no, impossible, they're all dead…Master, perhaps?" The Doctor's eyes narrowed and he glanced accusingly at Mal. "She hasn't traveled with the Master, has she?"

"Ah…no, I don't think so," Mal answered slowly, blocking out images of Inara calling anyone "Master". Eegh. "If you want, I can go get her…"

"Oh, please, that…" The Doctor took in a deep breath to compose himself. "Yes, yes."

Mal chuckled and stood up. "Sure. Just gimme a second." He exited the room and left the Doctor to himself and his musings. Did he want this companion? Was it too soon? Oh, but he wanted someone to be with…

He was interrupted by Mal coming entering once more, trailing an exceptionally beautiful young woman in his wake. The Doctor stood up to greet her as Mal introduced her by way of, "Doc, this is Inara. Inara, this is the Doctor. He just lost his old companion."

"Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss," Inara answered, shaking the Doctor's hand gently. "Was she a regular? Assuming it was a she," she amended her statement.

"Ah, yes, yes she was," the Doctor replied, his eyes loosing some of their spark for a moment, even as a bit of confusion entered his mind. Brushing it away, he continued, "But I understand you're a companion! Brilliant! …You've never traveled with the Master, have you?"

"I operate under a strict privacy policy," Inara replied evenly, "and what my clients wish to be called remains confidential." She smiled warmly as Mal scoffed off to the side, expressing his derision for her job. "Where would you like me to accompany you?"

"Anywhere," the Doctor replied cheerily, "anywhere in all of time and space! Where would you like to go! Usually they don't ask me that," he added to Mal, off to the side.

"They're kind of supposed to…" Mal told him, an eyebrow settling over one of his eyes (needless to say, the quirky alien often puzzled him).

"Well, why don't we go to my chambers, and we'll talk it over there," Inara suggested, offering the doctor her arm. He accepted it, and they moved up the stairs, the Doctor chattering on and Inara casting a glance over her shoulder at the odd client Mal had set her up with. He simply sent her a cheeky grin and sat back down at the table, refilling his glass.

oOoOo

It was a full 5 minutes and twenty-two seconds later that Mal heard a piercing yelp, a clattering and a slam, and the Doctor came stumbling down the stairs, hair rumpled, bowtie haphazardly hanging on, and his jacket thrown over his shoulder. He paused to glare accusingly at Mal.

"I have a wife!" he cried, then hurried to the TARDIS, yanked open the doors, and wasted no time in leaving. The ship disappeared with its customary "vwoop, vwoop" within seconds, leaving Mal on his lonesome, with the exception of Kaylee, who poked her head out from the corner behind him.

"What was that all about, Captain?" she questioned.

Mal didn't answer, simply brought his glass up to level so that just his twinkling eyes were visible. "Shiny," he murmured, then tipped it back and downed the rest of his drink.

-finis

**So yeah. That's it. Just a silly little thing. :) Please review! Were they out of character? Was it okay? Was it horrible? Would you want me to toss it into the fiery pits of hell? **


End file.
